


Expectations

by Mindful Self Indulgence (ohhaypsy)



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Dirty Talk, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Praise Kink, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-18
Updated: 2018-09-18
Packaged: 2019-07-13 21:39:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16026491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohhaypsy/pseuds/Mindful%20Self%20Indulgence
Summary: Wash expected rough. He expected intense. What he didnotexpect was gentle and considerate.Hedefinitelydidn't expect so muchtalking.





	Expectations

**Author's Note:**

> me: *catching up on red vs blue* man i've got so many wash feelings i want to write.  
> me to me: write porn.  
> me: well i'm sure i'll put some in there somewh--  
> me to me: write three thousand words of plotless fucking.

In a way, Wash expected it.

He hadn't missed the looks Maine sent his way, heard the occasional drop in his friend's already growling voice when they were alone. The way large hands (and _fingers)_ lingered on his bicep or his hip when no one was looking.

And well, Wash wasn't averse to the idea. So he caught Maine's eye when he looked. Sought him out when he was alone. Found reasons to put himself in range of his hands (and those _fucking fingers)_ at every opportunity.

Wash was never good at straightforward. So he appreciated when Maine got tired of the game and took initiative.

It happened in the locker room, because of fucking _course_ it did. Wash emerged from the shower, towel around his hips, pausing when he saw that Maine was the only one there. The larger man had already finished dressing, and looked up from lacing his boots, eyes slowly roving upward along Wash’s form.

 _Hungry._ That was the only word to describe it, and the idea of being the focus of Maine's hunger made Wash’s throat close a bit.

He returned Maine's look with an arched eyebrow and moved past him to his own locker. He didn't look back, but could feel Maine's searing gaze on him as he dropped his towel and began to dress unhurriedly.

It took a full minute, which was longer than Wash had expected. He'd just finished pulling up his pants, still shirtless, when he felt a much larger frame drape itself over him, fingers possessively digging into his hips. Fuck, he hadn't even heard Maine move. The guy was surprisingly stealthy for his size.

"Ten minutes," Maine growled into his ear. "Be in your room, door unlocked. Naked." It wasn't a request.

Maine's grip on his hips loosened, but he didn't move. Wash turned around in his arms, and when he met Maine’s eyes, they were softer than he expected, a silent question in them. _Do you want this?_

Wash swallowed hard and nodded because _fuck yes_ he wanted this. Maine's predatory look returned. "Find your voice by then." And with another squeeze of Wash's hips, he left.

Wash had to take a minute to calm his erection before he quickly finished dressing. By the five minute mark, he was in his room, quickly pulling off those same clothes.

But that was when nerves started to settle in. Was this a good idea? Wash was hardly inexperienced, and he was no stranger to casual sex, but it had never before been with someone this _close_ to him. Maine was his teammate, his partner, his _friend._ Did he really want to muddy that up with sex? What did _Maine_ want from this? He could stop this before it got there. He could get dressed, leave his room, lock his door. But he didn't. Instead he sat naked on his bed, back against the wall, still rolling the question in his mind. Did he want this?

At exactly ten minutes, the door was opened, and Wash had his answer. He watched as Maine quietly stepped in and closed the door behind him, hitting the lock. He watched as Maine looked at him, took in his naked form, _appreciated_ it.

And from his head to his hardening cock, Wash internally gave an emphatic _yes._

The room was silent as Maine stalked towards him, still dressed in a tank top and sweatpants. He stopped at the edge of the bed, eyes on Wash's as he reached down and gently took the other man's ankle in his hand. Fuck, his hands were so _big,_ he could nearly close one fully around Wash's calf as it slid up slowly, _too_ slowly. Wash lifted his other leg, sliding his foot over Maine's hip to encourage him.

With a sound that was almost a snarl, Maine gripped both of Wash's calves and _yanked,_ pulling Wash down so his ass was hanging off the bed, then immediately flipped him over onto his stomach. Wash's feet scrabbled to find purchase on the floor, and his hands clutched his sheets as he once again felt Maine draped over him. One hand clutched at his hip while the other tangled in Wash's hair, turning his face to the side.

Wash couldn't help his groan as he felt Maine's tongue slide over his ear. "Stoplight rules," Maine growled. "Green is go, yellow for slow down. You say red, and everything stops. Understand?" Wash nodded. "Say it."

"I understand." Wash's voice came out far more breathless than he meant for it to.

"Color?" Maine punctuated the question with a roll of his hips against Wash's ass.

In the back of his head, Wash knew this wasn't the proper context for the safeword conversation, but he also figured it didn't matter all that much because "Green, fuck, _green."_

He could feel Maine grin against his ear. He pressed a kiss against Wash's jaw; a slow, gentle one, contradictory to what Wash had been expecting. "Let me keep hearing you, Wash."

The warmth and weight against Wash's back moved, and he felt hands dragging down along his sides and back, nails scratching lightly. Wash's stomach clenched in pleasant anticipation, his cock now fully hard. It had been awhile for him, definitely not since joining Project Freelancer. And judging by the insistence on 'Stoplight Rules,' Maine was going to fucking _wreck_ him. He waited to hear the sound of lube, to finally get to feel the fingers he'd been staring at for weeks. But instead, he heard Maine drop to his knees behind him, felt hands almost reverently cupping his ass, thumbs circling over his skin.

Wash tried futilely to look back over his shoulder. "What are you--" The words caught in his throat when Maine spread his cheeks and Wash felt the flat of his tongue slide over his asshole.

Wash had done a lot but he'd never had anyone do _that_ to him before. And he definitely hadn't expected it from Maine.

Shock wore off when he felt Maine's tongue circling his hole, flicking and teasing before pressing gently in. Wash choked and dropped his head, keening quietly into his sheets. How the fuck had he gone this long without feeling _that?_ He could have died and never known the joy that was being tongue-fucked.

Nails dug into the flesh of his cheeks, and he actually _whined_ when Maine pulled back. "I _said,_ let me hear you. How does it feel, Wash? Good?" The words were a tease; who knew Maine would be so interested in _talking?_ "Should I stop?"

"No, no, _fuck no,_ fuck Maine, it feels so fucking good, don't--" The words turned into a moan as Maine dove in again, this time pressing his tongue in as far as it would go. Wash learned his lesson and kept talking, jumbled words of praise and begging Maine to not stop. He wasn't normally particularly verbal in bed, but something about Maine, typically stoic, taciturn Maine talking to him, wanting to hear _him_ talk just made Wash so eager to please. It didn't take long before he was thrusting back onto Maine's tongue. One large hand grabbed his hip, forcing him to stay still, and Wash did his best to obey.

Wash didn't know how long they'd been at it, but he was past actual coherent words, just gasped and moaned exclamations. His cock was starting to ache, and the sensation of Maine's tongue was beginning to be too much. "Fuck, Maine, yellow, yellow, shit, I--"

Maine didn't hesitate to pull back, his grip on Wash softening. He stood, trailing kisses up Wash's spine as he dragged his hands over his sides. "What do you need? Tell me."

Wash whined into his bed, his body trembling. "Fuck me, I want you _in me,_ I want you to fuck me, use your fingers, fuck, I haven't been able to stop thinking about _your fucking fingers.”_ Afterwards, he'd be embarrassed at his babbling, but right now he couldn't give a fuck.

Maine smiled, his lips still pressed between Wash's shoulder blades. "Good boy." Wash shuddered at the words, which made Maine hum thoughtfully. "So good for me."

The words slid down Wash's spine and pooled warmly in his gut in a way he'd never felt before.

Maine pulled away, and Wash managed to look back to see him pulling lube out of the pocket of his sweatpants. The bastard was still fully dressed. "Maine…"

"You've been thinking about my fingers?" Maine didn't look at Wash, but considering the slow, careful way he was coating his fingers, he had to know he was being watched. He arched over Wash again and nosed at the skin behind his ear. "Tell me."

Wash gasped and bucked a bit when he felt a finger press at his entrance. "Thinking about how big they are, how big they'd feel inside me, how--" Wash groaned, feeling it start to push in. "H-how they'd feel opening me up, stretching me for your dick, oh fuck _Maine."_

In one smooth motion, Maine steadily pressed his finger all the way in, swirling it around to press at Wash's inner walls. "Tight. You'll feel so good on my cock." He pulled his finger out, just to immediately slip two back in, both of them up to the knuckle.

 _"Fuck!"_ Wash cried out at the burn, pain mixing with the pleasure. He wasn't disappointed; Maine's fingers felt _huge_ inside of him. What would his cock feel like? Wash had yet to get a good look at it, but he'd seen the outline of it when Maine was out of armor. The fucking _bulge_ when he was in the right pants. Wash would be lying if he said it hadn't been part of the draw, but now that he was in the moment, he was starting to get anxious about how that fucking _monster_ was going to fit inside him.

Wash gasped and groaned as Maine's fingers curved and stretched, carefully working him open. It hurt, it fucking _hurt,_ but it was necessary, and pain hadn't quite overridden the pleasure of finally getting those fingers inside him. He felt the third start to press against his rim and he arched his back and gritted his teeth, waiting for the push.

It didn't come; not yet anyway. The two fingers already inside of him stilled, and Maine's other hand slid gently over his lower back. "Do you need to stop?" The words were a low rumble, tinged with concern.

"N-no, green, I just… need a second."

The hand on his back left, and Wash felt Maine's bulk settle beside him on the bed. "Relax." Maine pressed a kiss to his temple, and started moving his fingers again. Slowly this time, just lazily finger-fucking Wash. "Tell me when you’re ready."

Wash nodded but kept his face pressed into the sheets. Maine kept his mouth against the side of Wash's face, pressing kisses to his temple, his ear, his jaw. "You're doing so _good,"_ he hummed, and Wash moaned softly. It was so much more _gentle_ than Wash ever expected Maine to be.

Ever so slowly, the fingers picked up pace, and between that and the soft praise Maine kept whispering in his ear, Wash began to loosen up, his erection, which had briefly flagged at the pain, was fully back, and he was once more moaning and writhing. Only once Maine finally crooked his fingers to press against Wash’s prostate, did Wash finally manage to gasp out, _"More."_

Maine obliged, and slid his third finger in, pressing against his prostate harder this time, causing Wash to cry out in pleasure. "Fuck, Maine, _fuck me."_

"Hold on." Wash could hear the strain in Maine's voice, holding back as he took the time to stretch Wash just a little more. "Fuck, _Wash."_

Maine pulled away suddenly and completely. Wash whined, feeling cold and empty, his body sagging against the bed. "Maine--"

"I said hold the fuck _on,"_ Maine snarled in return. Wash heard him finally undressing, heard him fumbling with the lube. "Do you even know how you _look_ like this?"

Wash shakily lifted himself to his elbows, attempting to look back, but was stopped by Maine's hand in his hair, shoving his face back into the sheets. The other hand grabbed his hip. "Stretched out, waiting, looking so fucked out before my cock's even in you." Wash felt the head of said cock pressing against his entrance. "You look _beautiful."_

He didn't have a second to question the word choice before Maine sunk in to him in a smooth motion, all the way to the hilt.

Wash _really_ hoped York wasn't in his room next door, because there was no way he wouldn't have heard Wash's cry.

Maine didn't move yet, just tangled his fingers in Wash's hair and dug his fingers into Wash's hip. He rolled his own hips gently against Wash's ass, letting him get used to the feeling of having Maine's girth balls deep inside of him. "Tell me when you're ready," he panted out.

Wash was done waiting. "Do it!"

Maine didn't need any more encouragement. He pulled back slowly and thrust into Wash. _Hard._ This is what Wash had been expecting, what he'd been waiting for. Maine pulled back and thrust hard again, and Wash could have sworn he was going to split open. But he held together, even as Maine's thrusts increased in tempo, driving at his prostate, even as Maine's hand left his hair and dragged nails down his back so he could grab both of Wash's hips to continue slamming into him.

But then Maine started talking.

"Do you know how long I've wanted to do this, Wash?" The sounds were closer to growls than actual words. "How often I've fucked my hand wishing it was you? I've fantasized about this, Wash, fucking _dreamed_ of you."

Wash moaned; it was easily the most words he'd ever heard Maine string together before. And even as Maine arched over him, pressing kisses to his back, sinking teeth into his flesh, Maine kept _talking._ "It's better than I could have imagined, you sound so good, feel so. Fucking. _Good."_ He accentuated each word with a thrust of his hips, stuttering the tempo. Wash whined, clawing at his sheets as Maine's words swirled in his ears. He could hardly register them, but the intent, the _meaning_ of them was undoing him almost as much as the way Maine fucked into him.

"Maine, I'm gonna… need to…" Wash panted, feeling the tightening deep in his groin. God, his dick hadn't even been touched yet and he was so fucking close. "Fuck, Maine, touch me, _please."_

Then Maine's hand was on his cock. "Come for me, Wash, let me hear it, let me _feel_ it."

After only a few strokes, Wash cried out his orgasm. Hopefully Wyoming wasn't in his room across the hallway. Fuck, hopefully the barracks were totally clear just to be safe.

Maine groaned as Wash came, louder than he'd been yet. He continued to pound into Wash, drawing out his orgasm, chasing his own. When the overstimulation finally became too much, Wash whimpered. "M-Maine…"

After one final thrust, Maine pulled out, and with a grunt, released onto the back of Wash's thigh.

He'd never say it out loud, but Wash was sure he’d never been _fucked_ like that before. He laid boneless on his bed, shivering at Maine's hot breath on his back as the larger man panted, forehead pressed between his shoulder blades. _"So good,"_ Maine whispered one last time, and Wash shuddered as he pulled away. Wash felt Maine wipe his leg off with something -- hopefully something of _Maine's,_ Wash was already going to have to wash cum out of his sheets.

Inhaling deeply, Wash started to move, but then Maine was there, sliding onto the bed, pulling Wash with him so that they were both lying down properly, Wash on his side while Maine pressed in behind him. Large arms slid around Wash's smaller frame, holding him tightly. Maine gave a contented sigh, and pressed soft, open-mouthed kisses along the back of Wash's neck.

Well… _that_ was unexpected. Wash wouldn't have pinned Maine as a cuddler, but he definitely didn't mind having the other man pressed against his back, sliding fingers over his skin.

Wash couldn't help but crane his neck back to look at Maine. Since he'd first come into the room, Wash hadn't had the opportunity to actually _see_ him. Maine looked back at him, eyes soft, and with a gentle sort of smile like Wash had never seen on him.

 _Content._ That was the word for it. This time, warmth curled in Wash's chest instead of his groin.

"Do you have enough room?" Wash asked lamely, an excuse for why he was staring back at Maine. It must be hard for the man to fit into one of these beds on his _own._

Maine grumbled faintly and pushed Wash closer to the wall, but followed to keep flush against him. Wash rolled over in his arms, making it easier for them to tangle their legs together. "Do you want a blanket, or, uh, another pillow or something? I can--"

Maine cupped his hand around the back of Wash's neck, using his thumb against Wash's jaw to tilt his head up, and silenced him with a kiss. It was slow and deep, warm without being heated. Maine had just fucked his brains out, but this was their first kiss. This strangely _gentle_ kiss.

After pressing his lips one last time to the corner of Wash's mouth, Maine pulled him in tighter, letting Wash tuck his head under his chin. "Sleep," he huffed. Wash nodded and pressed his face into Maine’s neck, letting his eyes drift close.

Wash had expected that Maine wouldn't be one for pillowtalk.

**Author's Note:**

> This stemmed from me really enjoying the idea of Maine being a considerate lover who is _really_ into talking during sex.
> 
> Wash has a praise kink that gets so intense post-PFL I will die on this hill.
> 
> Thanks for reading my nonsense.


End file.
